


Disarm You With a Smile

by luneur



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, Friends With Benefits, Gore, Grief/Mourning, Handcuffs, Hunger Stike, Imprisonment, M/M, Mind Games, Paranoia, Power Dynamics, Psychology, Redemption, Richonne never happened, Rough Sex, Swearing, Topping from the Bottom, Whump, post 8x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luneur/pseuds/luneur
Summary: Negan would not give these people the satisfaction of believing they could ‘fix’ him. He’d never been broken in the first place.
Relationships: Rick Grimes/Negan
Comments: 91
Kudos: 121
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	1. Paranoia

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergent from the end of season 8, because they really didn't give us enough prisoner Negan on the show. I'm fascinated by his path to redemption and wanted to explore it from his pov.
> 
> This is a multichapter work that I'm doing for the [Bad Things Happen Bingo](http://badthingshappenbingo.tumblr.com) over on tumblr. Chapter titles will be the respective prompts I'm attempting.
> 
> It's been a couple of years since I participated in anything fannish, I'm on [tumblr](http://luneur.tumblr.com) if anyone would like to yell about Regan and other TWD ships with me.

The confinement didn’t get to Negan. Not at first.

His cell was not the Ritz. Hell, it was going to take some adjustment to get used to his new living space.

He had to relieve himself in a bucket and bathe in a rusty bath. There were three square meals a day – the food palatable, though bland and predictable. His mattress was almost worn down to the metal springs inside it.

There were none of the comforts he’d once been so accustomed to as leader of the Saviors.

And yet, those comforts truly did not matter to him.

Negan was locked in a basement, hidden from the rest of the world. It was hard to believe he was just yards away from a community of people who were going about their sorry little lives. Fuck, none of them gave a shit about the fact he was down there.

Especially not Rick Grimes.

~

His eyes soon became permanently adjusted to the darkness. When Negan did see the light, it was as a tiny trickle through a far-off window. It half-illuminated his captors’ faces as they came to bring enough essentials to keep him alive for the day.

At night, the darkness was like a blanket, smothering everything that came within its reach. Negan couldn’t see the shadows. Even in the unforgiving summer heat, he’d find himself breaking out into a cold sweat during those long, relentless hours.

In the beginning, Negan stayed strong. This was just a fucking test. Soon, he’d be out of his cell, taking care of business like he always had done. Rick Grimes was no leader. His plans would go to shit, and when they did, he’d come calling.

Negan waited. Time no longer made sense to him. Days blurred into weeks. Weeks blurred into months.

Still, Rick did not visit him.

~

One day, it was Daryl’s turn to bring his breakfast.

“Well shit, look who it is,” Negan exclaimed. “No Gabriel today? Don’t tell me your priest has already quit trying to help me atone.”

Daryl grunted, avoiding Negan’s piercing gaze.

Inwardly, Negan felt like his blood was starting to boil. Of all the people that could come and tend to him, they had the audacity to send Daryl. Dixon was worse than useless. Barely even worth toying with. It was a fucking joke.

“Canned peaches again?” Negan groaned. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Damn sight better than the dog food your guys used to feed me back at the Sanctuary,” Daryl replied with a growl.

“Now hold on a minute,” Negan said, lips curling in amusement. “I did my best for you, Daryl. I wanted you to be my right-hand man. I would’ve broken you if you’d not run away like the chicken you are.”

Daryl looked away, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

“You got something to say?”

“Nah,” Daryl shook his head. “You ain’t worth it.”

Negan laughed, as menacingly as ever. Even now, it was easy for him to be who he’d always been. Being behind bars would not change him. He would not give these people the satisfaction of believing they could ‘fix’ him. He’d never been broken in the first place.

Reluctantly, he shoved a mouthful of peach into his mouth. It tasted just as nasty as he’d imagined it would. Daryl turned to leave.

“You know…” Negan called after him. “You got balls for coming down here after what I did to you. I’ll give you that.”

Daryl froze; he did not turn around.

“Rick’s a dick for not even visiting me,” Negan spat out the words angrily. “You can tell him I said that. Worse still, he’s a damn coward.”

This time, Daryl did look at him, and he dared to smirk – that devious son of a bitch.

“You said you wanted to break me, Negan. Ever thought that now, maybe Rick’s the one breaking you?”

Negan’s mouth went dry. He threw his food tray on the floor and shook his head viciously. He stormed towards the metal bars, grabbing them so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“How can he break me when he daren’t even look me in the eye?” He glowered. “He kept me alive. I’m his goddamn responsibility!”

There was more Negan wanted to say. There was always more. But Daryl wasn’t the type of guy to listen. He turned around, didn’t even give Negan a second glance.

As the door closed, his world was once again plunged into darkness.

~

Things were going from bad to worse.

Rick was up to something; Negan was convinced of it. There had to be a reason Rick never visited him. Where did he go, what did he do? What was he planning?

Because Negan was never going to get out of his cell and rule the roost again without being able to work on Rick. And if Rick refused to see him, then his entire sorry existence was futile. For the first time since being overthrown, Negan began to acknowledge that he was in a lose-lose situation. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, with no way out.

He could die here in this cell, and the world would keep on turning without him. No one would miss him. It’d be awful convenient for Rick – it was probably exactly what he wanted.

A world without people like Negan in it would be too damn boring.

He wracked his brain; formulated a plan. It was time for drastic action.

~

Breakfast was served. As the tray was slid under his cell door, Negan pushed it back.

“The hell you doin’?” Daryl asked.

“Tell Rick I don’t want it.” Negan’s voice was low. “Tell him I’m not eating a thing. Not until I see him here, in the flesh, in my goddamn cell.”

“Whatever,” Daryl said, grimacing.

~

Going without food was easy at first. It wasn’t as though Negan looked forward to his meals anyway. But two or three days in, and he started to feel pretty shitty. There was a gnawing feeling in his stomach that would just not go away, and his head throbbed with a dull, persistent pain.

His sacrifice had made no difference. There was still no sign of Rick. Negan knew the rest of Rick’s crew were all still plotting against him. They had to be.

On the third night, Michonne showed up with his evening meal. Negan barely lifted his head up to acknowledge her as she slid the tray under his door.

“Eat,” she snarled. “Now.”

He tried to give her his trademark laugh, low and bellowing, but it didn’t have any strength to it.

“I’m serious Negan.”

“Go to hell,” he barked.

She glared at him; her eyes so full of hate he half-expected her to take her Katana from its sheath and re-slice his throat with it.

He slid the food tray back towards her. Their eyes met.

“I made it crystal fucking clear,” Negan said. “I want Rick.”

“You didn’t drink your water.” She shoved his cup back under the bars.

Negan grabbed it and turned it upside down, spilling out its contents.

“As of now, I’m not drinking either.”

Once Michonne left, he sank to the ground, burying his head in his hands. The entire room was spinning.

~

As morning broke, Negan was so lightheaded he could barely stand. The morning sun only made him feel more parched. Shit, he wasn’t sure if he could keep doing this for much longer.

Luckily for him, he didn’t have to.

Rick slunk down the stairs towards his basement cell a little later.

Negan’s plan had worked like a fucking charm, just like he knew it would.

“Rick,” he said the name like a purr, despite his exhaustion. “You came to me.”

“You didn’t leave me much choice.”

Rick pushed the food tray under the cell door, but Negan was too quick for him. He reached out and grabbed Rick’s hand, using all the strength he had left to seize it. Jesus Christ, his stomach was doing somersaults. It was the first time he’d touched anybody since he’d been locked up, and it was a like a fucking revelation. The heat between them prickled like electricity; Negan’s heart raced. Negan gripped onto Rick tightly as they came face-to-face. He could have stared into those baby blue eyes for a lifetime, and he would have never grown bored.

“Just eat your damn food.” Rick glared at him coldly.

And yet, he hesitated before he pulled away.

Negan smirked. Maybe Rick Grimes would wind up killing him, but their mind games made Negan’s suffering well worth it.


	2. Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He did not tell Rick about his hallucinations. He was not going to tell anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: graphic flashbacks pertaining to Glenn's death, mentioning of blood and gore.

Rick glared at Negan one last time and started to walk towards the cell door.

“Where the hell d’you think you’re going?” Negan asked, still chewing on his food. It felt like he was swallowing razor blades, but damn, his hunger strike had been worth it.

“To get on with the rest of my day,” Rick snarled.

Negan started to laugh the lowest, most sinister, laugh he could muster – the kind of laugh he used to use to terrify people into doing what he wanted. “Nuh-uh,” he said. “No, you ain’t.”

“Quit playin’ games with me,” Rick yelled at him through gritted teeth.

“I’m not the one playing games here.” Negan held his hands up as if to protest his innocence. “Where the hell you been these last few months, Rick? Did you think you could just sweep me under the carpet, like a dirty little secret? Did you think I was a problem that would go away? Because goddammit, Rick, that is not the way this shit works.”

Rick stood on the spot; his arms folded. His eyes darted around as though he didn’t know where to look.

“You’re spineless,” Negan snarled. His muscles quivered; his body tensed. “Talk to me. Face me like a goddamn man.”

_Touch me again_ , Negan thought. _I fucking dare you_.

“I don’t owe you a damn thing,” Rick said.

He turned his back on Negan and scurried out the door like the mouse he was.

~

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted towards Negan’s nose. It was delicious, but not nearly as enticing as the man who was bringing it.

“Good morning, Sheriff, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Negan smirked as Rick came down into the basement to deliver his breakfast. He had not expected him to return quite so soon, yet he did not want Rick to sense his surprise.

Besides, all he was met with was stony silence.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart,” Negan said. “Won’t you sit down and stay awhile? Keep a guy company? It’d be the highlight of my day.”

“Your lines aren’t gonna work on me, Negan.”

“Never thought they would, sugar.”

“Then cut the bullshit.”

“Here’s the thing, Rick. I don’t _do_ bullshit. I’m a balls to the wall kind of guy. People know exactly what they’re getting with me. But you? You don’t know who the hell you are, or what you’re fighting for. You’re no leader.”

And Negan believed it. He believed every single word that was coming out of his mouth.

“The people up there would beg to differ.” Rick pointed upwards.

“How’s all that going, by the way?” Negan asked. “Your little community thriving like you said it would?”

“None of your damn business.” Rick’s eyes sparkled with defiance.

“It will be.” Negan licked his lips. “When you need my help – and you _will_ need my help, you know where to find me.”

“Have you learnt anything from the past?” Rick shuddered. “I will never trust you, Negan. You’re gonna die right here in this cell.”

“And when I do, that’ll be on you,” Negan told him harshly. “After all, I’m _your_ responsibility, Rick.”

“Eat your bread and jam,” Rick snarled. “I’ll thank my people for it on your behalf.”

Once again, he left without saying goodbye. It seemed to be becoming a habit – one Negan wasn’t particularly fond of.

Negan shook his head and turned his attention to the plate in front of him. Freshly baked fucking food. He could barely believe it. Breathing in the aroma of the bread, he started to salivate. Negan lifted the bread to his lips, but suddenly, almost involuntarily, he stopped himself from eating it. His eyes were fixed on the homemade red jam spread on top of it. He froze, staring at it in horror.

Then, he was back in the clearing, and all around him, the shrieks and cries of Rick’s group echoed out into the night. The widow was screaming. Her husband was already long gone, the second blow to the head having killed him. But Negan didn’t stop – Lucille wouldn’t let him. He hit the guy again, and again, and again, until there was no air left in his lungs, no strength left in his arms.

And Negan had _enjoyed_ it.

Negan grabbed his throat, ran his fingers over the scar Rick’s knife had left behind when he finally won the war. He gasped for air and willed his heart to stop racing. Fuck, if this carried on, he was going to pass out.

Somehow, he came back to his senses. He was in his cell; he was safe. He was not going to die – at least not today.

Negan glanced at the jam again, all red, all gory. The mere sight of it made his stomach lurch painfully. He put his food back on the plate and kicked it away in horror.

He was a monster. A fucking monster. And suddenly, he all too clearly began to understand the pain he’d put other people through.

~

The flashbacks came more often after that. Rick’s visits were infrequent – sometimes several weeks apart – not that Negan was counting. Negan never knew what Rick did or where he went during his absences, but he became increasingly grateful for even a fraction of the man’s time.

He did not tell Rick about his hallucinations. He was not going to tell anyone.

Negan and Rick weren’t friends. Hell, they were probably never gonna be. But Negan started to long for his presence, and not just because he wanted to piss him off.

Such was life.

~

“I trust you’ve been treated humanely in my absence.”

“Well shit, Rick.” Negan laughed, stroking his long beard. “Nice of you to care.”

Rick sighed deeply. In the dim light, Negan could make out the dark circles beneath Rick’s eyes, and the new lines which appeared on his face.

“Been someplace nice?” Negan asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Supply run,” Rick replied as he slid Negan’s midday meal under the cell door.

Negan half expected that to be it, and for Rick to walk away from him like he always did. He thought his eyes must be deceiving him as Rick pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable. It was as though hell was freezing over.

“Would’ve been Carl’s birthday today,” Rick said quietly.

Negan almost choked on his food.

Carl. He’d been thinking about him a lot lately.

“You’ve been keeping count, all this time?”

Rick shook his head. “Other people count the days. They just don’t know the significance of this one.”

There was so much sadness behind those blue eyes. Negan couldn’t help but be moved.

“Geez, Rick.” Negan took a deep breath. “That’s rough. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t come here for sympathy.”

“Even so. I liked the kid. Never made a secret of it.”

Rick was silent. Negan let the air settle between them. Inwardly, he panicked. He did not want to break down over the death of another man’s child. He had no right to. Truth be told, Negan was starting to blame himself for Carl’s demise anyway.

“You ever wish things had turned out differently?” Rick asked.

“I used to wish I’d killed you the first night we met like I should’ve done,” Negan whispered. “Woulda saved me a hell of a lot of trouble. Guess I didn’t want to put you down in front of your kid.”

Rick turned and stared at him. “You _used_ to wish that?”

“Hell yes.”

“You don’t anymore?”

“Shit’s changed, Rick. I used to think about overthrowing you every second of the goddamn day. Figured I’d have this place running like clockwork.” Negan took a strained breath. “But do I wanna kill you? No. And I know you’re never gonna kill me, either. Not now.”

A noise fell from Rick’s lips. It closely resembled a laugh. “You just keep talkin’; maybe I’ll change my mind.”

“You won’t, Rick.” Negan shook his head. “Being locked up like this, all I got is time. I’ve figured a hell of a lot of things out.”

“Oh yeah?”

Negan closed his eyes, and he could picture Carl’s face perfectly. He could see the kid hiding under that oversized hat, begging Negan to stop the war at Alexandria’s gate. There was a better way, he’d said. It didn’t have to be like this.

Negan should have listened.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes; his lip quivered.

“It’s my fault,” Negan said, his voice breaking.

“I-I don’t understand what you’re sayin’.”

“He’d still be here if it weren’t for me.”

“I don’t wanna hear this.” Rick’s cheeks reddened.

“But it’s _true_.” Negan got down on his knees. “Please Rick, I’m begging you. I need your forgiveness.”

“Enough!” Rick looked away. “I can’t do this, Negan.”

But Negan wasn’t done talking.

“I need you, Rick.” Negan was pleading, more and more desperately. “We need each other. Fuck, we always have done. Always will do. You still don’t see it.” Negan laughed humorlessly. “Maybe you will, one day.”

Rick staggered to his feet, as though Negan had physically injured him. He kicked the chair away.

“Enjoy your lunch, Negan.” The words were spat out venomously.

And then he was gone.


	3. Loneliness

It was always one step forward, two steps back with Rick. Goddammit, when was Negan gonna learn how to get on his good side? How to sweeten the deal between them?

Rick had opened up to Negan. Confided in him about his son, for Christ’s sake. Negan had come so close to making progress, so close to getting under his skin. Rick was a tough enough nut to crack and Negan just had to rub him up the wrong way again.

_I need you, Rick. We need each other_.

What the hell had Negan been thinking? It was corny. Cheesy. Even though in some fucked up way he believed it was true.

He was never going to stop getting into trouble for running his mouth. Negan knew he hadn’t been smart – must’ve been the cabin fever getting to him. The flashbacks were driving him half-crazy; he was barely sleeping at night. He needed to get himself together, otherwise he was never going to get out of this jail cell; he would rot in here, just like Rick had told him.

The future was starting to look very bleak.

~

Rick stayed away, just like Negan knew he would.

Time seemed to slow and stretch out in front of him. Time was all Negan had now. There were years and years ahead of him, and he was going to be stuck between the same four walls, not living, just existing.

The others came and went, brought his food, made sure he bathed. But there was little in the way of conversation, and without Rick, Negan felt as useless as a bench in a desert. Loneliness started to smother him like a heavy cloak, and he was suffocating, barely able to breathe under its weight.

He was barely treading water – he was on the verge of drowning.

Negan began to long for any human interaction, no matter how insignificant it may be. He would beg Michonne to stay awhile, only for her to turn her back on him and flee. Negan was not a man of religion, yet he implored Father Gabriel to pray with him – too bad he always seemed to have other places to be, and other people to help.

Negan would spend hours on end throwing a baseball against the wall, wishing Rick would come to him, if only to tell him how much he detested him.

For the first time since he’d been locked up, Negan began to wonder what the future held for him. Leading people, it was all he’d ever been good at. When the rest of the world had gone to shit and everyone had started turning, he’d started _thriving_.

Then Rick came along. The war between them had been one hell of a ride. They’d turned each other’s worlds upside down. Goddammit, Negan _missed_ him. He longed for Rick to walk down the stairs towards the basement, to grace Negan with five minutes of his presence.

It was pathetic.

Rick had been right; living was a whole lot tougher than dying. Negan had learned that the hard way.

~

Negan had always had people around him – the kids he taught at school, the large group he was in control of as leader of the Saviors, his former wives (Lord knows he’d spent a hell of a lot of time trying to figure out might have happened to each of _them_ after things went awry).

Now there was nothing. No one. He was empty.

During the day, Negan would strain his ears to hear even the slightest, most mundane of conversations should anybody pass by his cell window. Any noise, any sign of life was better than the silence bearing down on him like a lead weight, so oppressive, so vicious with its nothingness.

He started to give up, to lose faith.

He let the loneliness take him.

~

It took Negan entirely by surprise when Rick finally came back like a bolt out of the blue.

He cleared his throat and flashed Rick his best grin. He did not want Rick to sense how miserable his existence had truly become. Negan had some dignity left – not much – but he’d take what he could get.

“Hell, if I’d known you were coming, I’d have washed and shaved,” Negan said, stroking his unruly beard. He’d always been such a handsome rogue; he was almost glad he’d declined to be provided with a mirror to see what he looked like now.

Rick was silent as he looked Negan up and down. “How you been?” He asked. “Looks like you lost weight.”

“I’m eating my food if that’s what you’re asking, Rick.” Negan tried to hide his smile. “I ain’t getting any younger, you know.”

“Tell me about it.”

Rick pulled a chair up and sat outside Negan’s cell door. Negan’s heart leapt with joy. What the fuck was this? Goddamn Stockholm syndrome? Whatever it was, Negan couldn’t push the feeling away.

Rick was here. It was everything he wanted. It was everything he _needed_.

~

“These are our latest plans,” Rick told him one day, unfolding hand-drawn blueprints of a windmill.

“Why are you showing me this?” Negan asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“There’s gonna be a lot of noise over the next few weeks,” Rick replied. “Thought you’d wanna know what was happening.”

“Okay.” Negan nodded.

Noise was good. Noise he could deal with – it was a damn sight better than silence.

“Dammit, Negan.” Rick shook his head. “I was showing you this as a courtesy, not to rub it in your face.”

“Never accused you of doing that.”

Rick laughed. The sound was like music to Negan’s ears. He wanted to hear it more, to get used to seeing joy spread across Rick’s face, especially if he was the one causing the emotion.

“We are thriving, Negan,” Rick said. “Don’t get me wrong. Things out there are good. People are happy. Their families are healthy. But that isn’t… it isn’t why I came down here.”

“Hell, Rick.” Negan smirked. “You don’t say a whole lot, and when you do speak, it’s in riddles.”

Rick’s cheeks started to redden visibly. Negan’s stomach was doing backflips.

“You like talking to me.” Negan barely believed he was openly assuming such a thing.

“I...” Rick cleared his throat. “You’re my responsibility Negan. I _have_ to come down here and talk to you.”

“You haven’t always.” Negan insisted, remembering.

Rick kept quiet, but he was still blushing.

“Am I ever gonna get to see this new community of yours?” Negan asked. “You’ve been putting all this work into it…”

“You know I can’t let you out of here,” Rick said softly. “Not ever.”

“Never expected you to,” Negan replied. “Hell, I wouldn’t let me out if I were you.”

Rick half-smiled at him and tipped his head in agreement. “Guess I’ll figure out something to do with you,” he whispered. “In time.”

Negan stared at him, unable to move his eyes away. He’d been doing that a lot lately. And part of him wanted to navigate this new, Rick Grimes led world, wanted to see what it held for him. Because if things were different, then he and Rick could start over. Shit, he and Rick could be whatever they wanted to be.


	4. Secret Revealed

Negan was falling for Rick. He was pretty sure Rick was falling for him, too.

Now, instead of suffering from flashbacks, Negan’s downtime was filled with daydreams about Rick’s baby blue eyes. It was a new kind of agony, blissful yet torturous – he craved Rick’s company, longed to feel his touch, and to taste his lips. He was ready to give his all to a man who’d taken everything from him.

Fuck, this was bad.

Negan had never expected to feel anything for anybody again. Not after Lucille. He was resigned to the fact that no one else would matter to him, at least not in this lifetime.

And yet, here he was.

Rick had roused something inside him, and he didn’t know how the hell to make it go away. He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to make it go away.

The old Negan – the one who’d led the Saviors, would’ve stopped this shit in its tracks. But now he was powerless, a damn prisoner and not much else besides. Negan was gonna go with it, see where it took him. His sorry ass would never be free, but maybe he’d find a new kind of freedom with Rick.

He had no idea why this revelation hadn’t hit him sooner.

~

Rick, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to what was happening.

His visits occurred more often. There were periods when he stopped by every day. Negan sure as shit knew Rick didn’t visit him out of sympathy or guilt. The guy had been a cop for Christ’s sake; justice was his thing. He was spending time with Negan because he _wanted_ to.

~

“How’s it goin’, Rick?” Negan lay back on his mattress, tucking his hands behind his head. “Welcome home, sugar.”

The trick was to play it cool, to be smooth. Deep down, Negan knew Rick loved the pet names and the banter. Who wouldn’t?

“I’m good, Negan.” He pushed a plate of food under the cell door.

“It’s just like being at a Michelin star restaurant,” Negan smirked, popping a fresh cherry tomato into his mouth. “And this is fucking delicious.”

“Glad you approve.”

“You grow it yourself?” Negan asked, licking his lips.

“Nah,” Rick laughed softly. “I ain’t the gardening type.”

“I don’t know… reckon it’d be fun to see you out there, getting down and dirty.”

Rick cleared his throat and stared at the floor. Unless Negan was mistaken, he was pretty sure Rick’s face was reddening, and he was starting to sweat. Negan had been waiting a long time to get Rick all flustered, and fuck – it had been well worth the wait.

“You… uh… you always had this way with words?” Rick asked quietly.

Negan laughed lowly and heartily. “Well shit, Rick. Was I too crude?”

“I know you can be a hell of a lot cruder than that.”

“Fuck, yeah.” Negan continued to grin. “I was barely getting started.”

“You can say whatever you want; I still ain’t letting you out of here.” Rick pointed to the bars of the cell door.

He stared at Negan, blue eyes blazing. It was a direct challenge, a real gutsy move. It made the hairs on the back of Negan’s neck stand on end.

“Freedom isn’t what I want from you,” Negan whispered breathily.

Rick froze and swallowed hard. “Then… then what the hell is this?” He blinked rapidly, raking a hand through his hair. “What’s goin’ on, Negan?”

“I want you,” he replied. “Don’t you get it? I want _you_.”

Rick backed away slowly, shaking his head. “No,” he said. “No.”

“Now I know it’s gonna take some time to get your head around this.” Negan’s tone was smooth and persuasive. “Hell, I didn’t wanna believe it myself at first. But this… whatever this thing between us is, it’s fucking real. It isn’t going to go away. We can deny it all we like, but the truth is crystal fucking clear. I want you, Rick, and I’m pretty sure you want me too.”

“I – I…” Rick closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. “We’re not having this conversation.”

He turned away; it looked as though once more, he was going to leave. Maybe Negan wouldn’t see him again for weeks, months. The thought of it made his chest ache with pain.

“Fine,” Negan said, sighing deeply. “Run away. You’re getting pretty good at that.”

Rick froze on the spot again; he still had his back to Negan.

“If we’re gonna do this, then I need you to understand one thing,” Rick said coldly, without moving. “I could never love you. I _won’t_ ever love you.”

“What?”

Now, Negan was the one lost for words. He was shocked and confused. Was Rick implying what Negan thought he was implying?

“I know you heard me.” Rick turned to him.

“I did, I just haven’t fully grasped – “

“I’ll sleep with you,” Rick whispered. “But I don’t care about you, Negan.”

“Never asked you to.”

“We both need to know where we stand,” Rick said defiantly.

 _I don’t stand_ , Negan thought. _I roll over, and I fucking submit_. He was never going to admit that out loud to Rick, though.

Silence hung heavily in the air between them.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Rick asked, eyes burning with intensity.

“Fuck, yes,” Negan replied, without hesitation. He swallowed, but his throat felt dry. “It’s not as if I’ve got anything to lose.”

“Guess I’ve got everything to lose,” Rick said, gritting his teeth in an almost feral way. “So, this little arrangement? It stays between us. You and me. Don’t you dare breathe a word about it to another living soul.”

Negan laughed and licked his lips. “You’re a hard man to please, Rick Grimes. But I’d be more than happy to be your dirty little secret.”

Outwardly, Negan was elated. Inwardly, he couldn’t help feeling as though he’d just made a deal with the devil.

There were many more layers to Rick than Negan had ever thought possible.


	5. Body Image Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, things start to get a little intense in this chapter. 
> 
> Sorry that I'm slightly late posting this - I've not found quarantine to be great for my mental health, but I am now starting to write a bit each day again. I hope you're all well and safe during these difficult times. Thanks for sticking with me.

Negan wasn’t scared of Rick. Hell, he had no business fearing anything anymore – he was too far gone for that. But something haunted him about the cocksure look on Rick’s face as he’d sauntered away from the cell that day, like he was the cat that’d got the cream.

_Guess that makes me the cream_ , Negan supposed. His groin stirred at the mere thought of it.

He had no idea how this shit was going to work. Rick and him, involved in a physical relationship. It seemed inconceivable just a few weeks ago. Fuck, it felt pretty damn implausible right about now.

But Negan had waited a long time for this. They would make it work. They _had to_ make it work.

What the fuck else had Negan got to live for?

~

“Say, could I get a mirror, Father Gabriel?”

“Uh… sure.” The priest shrugged, his eyes narrowing as he looked right at Negan.

“There a problem with my request?”

Gabriel blinked several times and shook his head.

Always so polite, always so careful with his words. But Negan could read Gabriel like a book, and he could see the priest was brooding, holding back his thoughts.

“I’m just surprised. You’ve shown very little interest in personal grooming up until now.”

“A guy can change his mind, you know.” Negan smirked, laid on the charm.

Gabriel picked up Negan’s empty breakfast tray and bowed his head.

“And if it’s not too much trouble, I’d sure like to shave.” Negan tugged on his long beard. “I’m getting’ a little sick of having this fella around.”

The priest sighed, turned to leave. “I’ll see what I can do.”

It was as easy as ordering room service.

~

Negan did not recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. Fuck, had being incarcerated really aged him this much?

Sure, there were new lines on his face and around his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen himself. But there were other, more subtle changes, some of which he truly did not like. His face was gaunt, his cheekbones protruded, and the rest of him had kind of sunken in. Where once he was muscled, now he was straight up skinny.

Shit, he needed to get it together.

“Well, fuck,” he said, admiring himself after he’d been given his haircut. “I’m still a handsome rogue. What d’you reckon boys?”

Neither of the two young guys who’d been appointed as armed guards for this little endeavor so much as glanced at him.

“Ain’t this just a barrel of laughs.” Negan sighed heavily, more to himself than to anyone else.

“I told you Negan,” Gabriel said softly. “You’re not a popular man out there. There’s plenty of Alexandrians gunning for your blood. Believe me, you’re safer in here than you think.”

Negan thought of Rick and wondered if that was true.

~

Rick came to him in the dead of night, while most of the community was sleeping.

“You sneaky son of bitch.” Negan licked his lips and stared at Rick’s silhouette in the darkness. “Didn’t think you were gonna make it.”

“We had a deal, remember?”

“Like I’ve been able to think about much else.”

“I ain’t gonna lie, Negan,” Rick said, his voice wavering. “This sneaking around, it’s kind of exciting. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while, if I’m being honest.”

Negan laughed dryly. “Well shit, Rick. You telling me that breaking the rules is turning you on? Because I’m into that. Hell, that’s exactly the kind of thing that gets me off.”

“You sure it ain’t the sound of your own voice that gets you off?” Rick asked, his tone not serious for once.

“Well, shit Rick. Are you finally developing a sense of humor?” Negan stood up, came closer to the bars. “You just keep on surprising me.”

He heard the jangle of keys, the noise of one of them being placed in the lock, then the creak of the cell door swinging open. This new and exciting change in routine excited him, and Negan could not wait to get his hands on Rick. He could smell newly applied cologne, saw Rick had freshly washed and combed his hair.

He’d made an effort to look good for Negan.

Fuck, that was hot.

They stood toe-to-toe, looking into each other’s eyes. Through the tiny slit of moonlight reflecting in from his window, Negan could see Rick swallow hard; could hear his breath hitch in he back of his throat.

It’d been a long time since Negan had been with anyone, let alone as intimately as this. For a minute he wasn’t sure what to do with his body, where he should put his hands. His primal urge was to grab Rick, to slam him against the wall and to give him the best damn fucking of his life. Negan had all these wasted years to make up for, all this pent-up frustration, and god damnit he still wanted more from his life than these four walls could ever provide him with.

He was not going to give up on himself, yet he quickly learned his little fantasy wasn’t going to happen, at least not on this night.

Rick pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, gave Negan a feral glare.

“Oh no, no, no.” Negan waved a finger.

“T-this… this is how it’s gonna go down,” Rick said, gritting his teeth.

“But…”

“It’s the only damn way, Negan.” Rick raised his voice. “You haven't earned my trust. Not yet. Not sure you ever will.”

There he was again, caught between a rock and a hard place. Negan sighed and held his hands out.

“Not like this.” Rick shook his head. “Get on the bed, Negan.”

Negan did as he was asked and lowered himself onto the worn-down mattress he’d come to hate so much over the months and years.

“Hands above your head.”

Negan widened his eyes. The situation just kept getting more and more surprising. Again, he did as he was told. Fuck, it was starting to become a nasty habit.

Rick leaned down, clipped the cuffs around Negan’s wrists. He lifted a gun out of his back pocket.

“You try anything, and I’ll use this,” he growled.

“No, you won’t,” Negan whispered, his voice barely audible. 

Because Negan still had faith in Rick Grimes, even if Rick lacked faith in himself.

“I-I’m sorry,” Rick stammered. “I hate that it has to be this way.”

“Quit apologizing.” Negan bowed his head, averting Rick’s gaze. “So, what do we do next?”

Rick took a deep breath and started to undo his belt buckle.


	6. Touch Starved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating is now E, tags updated.

Negan watched, mesmerized, as Rick pulled his jeans off, and eased himself out of his boxers. He was already semi-hard, his clock flushing red, and damn, Negan was almost salivating with anticipation.

Rick never lifted his eyes, never so much as cast a glance in Negan’s direction. Of all the people he’d met over the years, Rick was proving to be the toughest nut to crack. Negan hadn’t got a goddamn clue how to read Rick Grimes, and he didn’t know what the hell this magnetism between them was.

It sure wasn’t repulsion. The way Rick’s body was reacting to him was proof enough of that.

Rick grabbed Negan around the waist roughly and forced his pants and his boxers off, frantically pulling them over his hipbones. Negan was already hard, too, but since his hands were cuffed behind the back of his head, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it.

Heat rushed through Negan’s body – this was it – Rick was going to have to touch him now, and he was finally going to experience some kind of gratification for the first time since he’d been locked up in this hellhole. Because having Rick’s sweet ass would go some way towards making his shitty ordeal worth it.

Rick reached over to his discarded jeans and took a bottle of lube out of one of the pockets.

Negan’s eyes widened. “You get that while you were out on one of your supply runs?” He asked, smirking.

The way Rick glared back at him showed Negan that now was not the time for small talk. Rick squirted some of the liquid onto Negan’s cock, only using his fingers to spread it out.

There wasn’t so much as a hint of friction, and he felt no pleasure from the contact.

It was disappointing. Negan ached for him.

“I already…” Rick’s voice trailed off, and Negan thought he looked like a goddamn ghost of himself as he spoke. “I prepared myself,” Rick finally managed to say.

How convenient.

Negan nodded, understanding. Begrudgingly, he would have to accept this was the way it was gonna be.

It was Rick’s way or the highway.

Rick straddled him, pinning Negan’s hips to the mattress. It didn’t take a genius to work out what he was going to do next.

“Try not to break my dick, okay?” Negan sighed. “I mean, it’s gonna hurt you just as much as it hurts me.” He managed to laugh.

“Shut up,” Rick snarled.

Jesus Christ, this was messed up. Messed up, yet Negan wanted it.

Rick eased himself onto Negan, gasping. And Negan went from being freaked out to being into it, very, very quickly.

Fuck, Rick felt so good, so hot, so tight around him. Negan had almost forgotten just how euphoric sex made him feel. Maybe being used by Rick and being his own personal fuck toy wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“What are you waiting for, Rick?” Negan challenged him. “Take what you want from me.”

And Rick did.

Negan kept his eyes fixed on Rick as he started to bounce up and down on his cock, and he relished every single sound of pleasure emanating from deep within his throat. Hell, Negan knew Rick was trying to suppress his moans; trying to act like this wasn’t the best damn feeling he’d ever had in his life, and he was failing miserably at it.

Rick’s cock rubbed against the cotton of Negan’s sweatshirt, and it made their sex more frantic. Negan marveled at the way Rick’s ass was clenched around him so demandingly, it was as though he needed Negan like he needed air.

“Well, shit, Rick,” Negan moaned. “You keep going like that, I’m going to fucking explode.”

And he was. It’d been a long damn time since Negan’s dick had been inside someone else’s body, let alone someone he wanted so much.

Rick ignored him, continuing his pace. Negan could hear his breaths growing ragged, could see the beads of sweat forming on Rick’s forehead.

Negan bit down on his lip, cursing as he came fast and furiously. It was a glorious fucking orgasm, there was no doubt about that, but this would surely go down as the oddest sexual experience of his entire life.

Rick Grimes was a bottom, yet he acted like a top.

Suddenly, Rick came, spilling onto Negan’s sweatshirt and making a damned fine mess of it. Negan stared at him, exasperated. Rick took several steady, deep breaths and climbed off Negan, getting to his feet. He leaned over and unlocked the handcuffs. Negan’s arms ached from being in such an uncomfortable position for so long, but he didn’t complain.

He didn’t say anything at all.

That was a first.

“Take your shirt off, clean yourself up,” Rick said, as he dressed himself swiftly.

Negan glared at him but did as he was told.

“I’ll get someone to bring you some clean clothes in the morning.”

“Geez, that’s real generous of you.” Negan could barely keep the contempt from his voice.

Rick grabbed the sweatshirt out of Negan’s hand, and turned to let himself out of the jail cell.

“You be sure to hide the evidence now, won’t you?” Negan whispered. “Guess you must have learned all about that when you were a cop.”

To his credit, Rick did not reply. Instead, he walked away, closing the door as quietly as a mouse as he scurried away into the night.

Negan slammed his fists against the wall, a strangled sound falling from his lips. What the fuck was this? Being inside Rick had felt so damn good, but now he just felt empty.

All those weeks, all those months they’d talked, building up an uneasy kind of friendship, now it was as though they were back to square one.

Rick was like a stranger. Something had broken between them, and Negan started to wonder if it was irreparable.

He’d longed for Rick to touch him, hell, just to kiss him would have been something. But Rick couldn’t even bear to look him in the eye.

Negan’s body was still warm, his skin still tingled fresh from his orgasm. It was just his blood that was running cold.


	7. Trust Issues

The same thing happened the next night and the night after that.

Rick came to him. He cuffed Negan, they fucked. They never touched, barely talked.

The sex was amazing, but the silence was goddamn deafening. And silence was not something Negan dealt with well.

In fact, he didn’t like dealing with it at all.

By the time the third night rolled around, he couldn’t take it anymore. It was time to play his hand, to lay his cards on the table.

“I ain’t in the mood, Rick,” Negan said coldly, voice low as he heard Rick placing the key in the lock.

“W-what?” Rick asked, taking a stumbling step backwards.

“I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.” Negan kept his tone steady and his face impassive, but he could barely believe the words were tumbling out of his sorry mouth.

“Thought this was what you wanted,” Rick growled. “Thought _I_ was what you wanted. Make up your damn mind, Negan, and quit playin’ games with me.”

It was the most Rick had said to him in days. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so fucking tragic.

“I am being completely transparent with you, Rick,” Negan said, getting to his feet. “Hell, I haven’t ever really been anything else. Figured you’d appreciate that, at least.”

“I don’t appreciate bein’ used by you.”

Negan didn’t even try to hold his laughter back. He let it fall freely from his lips, heard it rumble through his body until it made his ribs ache.

“Who’s using who, Rick?” He asked. “Because I’ve kinda lost track.”

“I don’t understand.” Rick shook his head. “Quit talkin’ in riddles.”

“I wanted you, Rick,” Negan said, wrapping his long fingers around the bars of his jail cell. “Hell, I still do. It haunted me day and night how I lusted after you, how you wormed your way into my head, like it was goddamn Stockholm syndrome. I figured spending all this time with you had finally gotten under my skin and made me lose sight of myself.”

Negan turned, went to sit back on his mattress.

“People change, Rick,” he whispered. “Never thought it was possible, but maybe you _have_ made me a better man, helped me see there’s another way. These past few months we’ve talked for fucking hours, built up this trust… now we’re finally doing the deed and you’re like a fucking stranger again. Well, I’m sorry, but that shit doesn’t float with me.”

“I don’t trust you, Negan.” Rick bared his teeth to him. “And that ain’t gonna change.”

“I’m disappointed,” he replied.

And he was. He truly, genuinely, fucking was.

“You’re the one who ruined a good thing,” Rick said bitterly.

“Seems like I can only have half of one thing or fifty percent of the other.” Negan sighed heavily, forcing himself to look at Rick. “And as fine as your ass is, sugar, I miss the way you used to confide in me.”

“Guess you’ve made your choice, then.”

“Guess I have.”

Rick paused; their eyes met for half a second. Negan felt sure he saw pain and sadness emanating from those baby blues of Rick’s. He looked sorry; he just couldn’t admit it. Not even to himself.

There was always an invisible wall between them, and Negan was more trapped by that than he was by the cage he was forced to live in.

“See you around, Negan.”

So predictable.

Negan shook his head and smirked. “Catch you later, Rick.”

Too bad Rick left in such a hurry he forgot to re-lock the cell door.

~

Freedom.

Sweet fucking freedom.

Negan could almost taste that motherfucker as he stared longingly at the half-undone lock, hanging lopsidedly. It was taunting him, pulling him like the moon pulled the tide.

And so, the narrative started in his head – what would he do, and where would he go? His name still had to mean something out there in that big old world. Some of his Saviors were alive somewhere. They damn well had to be.

He could start again. Lie low. Regroup.

Teach Rick and his merry band of dicks a fucking lesson as soon as the time was right.

Except his chest was heavy as he processed that thought. There was no conviction to it, and Negan reluctantly realized he didn’t have the energy for war anymore. Where once there was bloodlust, now there was fucking nothing. He wanted out; he wanted something better.

And he was not going to wage war against a man he was falling in love with.

Goddamn it.

He didn’t get a wink of sleep, and he prayed Rick would be the one to come to him in the morning.

~

Negan said a prayer, and he got a priest. He sneered at Father Gabriel as he pushed his breakfast tray under the door.

“I want Rick,” he said menacingly.

“He has a busy day ahead of him,” Gabriel replied diplomatically, folding his hands together. “But I’d be more than happy to pass on a message.”

“Fetch him,” Negan snarled. “ _Now_.”

Gabriel’s face twisted. “What’s so important to you that it can’t wait?”

Instinctively, Negan covered the open lock up with his hand.

“Tell him I’m sick, tell him I’m dying, I don’t _care_ ,” Negan roared. “Just get him here before he goes off on another one of his escapades.”

Gabriel stared at him, his mouth half-open.

“Please, Father, I’m begging you.”

He did not expect it to work. 

But it did.

“What do you want, Negan?” Rick asked, pursing his lips together. “What the hell is this about?”

Negan was still standing there, his hand over the lock. He lifted it away, gestured towards it with his eyes. For once in his life, words weren’t necessary.

“H-how did you?” Rick stared at the lock, aghast. “How did you undo it?”

“I didn’t,” Negan said quietly. “You forgot to lock it back up again before you left last night.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rick muttered under his breath, snapping the lock shut, and condemning Negan to imprisonment once more.

“Don’t worry. Your priest doesn’t know.” Negan slinked back to his mattress, started to pick at his breakfast.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Rick asked, eyes fixed on him.

“Figured it wasn’t any of Gabriel’s concern.”

“That’s not what I meant. You could’ve left. You could’ve been long gone. I’m sure someone as smart as you could’ve sneaked right out the damn gate and we’d have been none the wiser.”

Negan shrugged and chewed on a piece of bread.

“Negan, _say_ something.”

Seconds passed. It felt like longer.

“There’s nothing out there for me,” he said, lowering his gaze. “Not anymore.”

Rick stared at him, eyes blazing.

“But you’re damn right I could’ve run,” he spoke as he ate. “Or worse. I could’ve killed you all in your sleep, slit your fucking throats. You and every last one of your people. But I didn’t, Rick.”

It’d been a while since he’d seen Rick look at him with fear, and yet it was still there, just like it’d never gone away.

“Why didn’t you?” He asked dryly.

“Because things are different. Hell, _I’m_ different,” Negan replied. “And maybe now you’ll finally get it.”

“Negan, I can’t let you out of there. You can never be free.”

“Give me a chance, Rick. Please, I’m begging you.” His eyes watered. “I can be useful to you. I can fight, I can build, I can have a purpose.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“How about today?” Negan asked, refusing to let it drop. “Gabriel said you had a busy day ahead of you. What are you up to? I could help you; I could work with you – just you.”

“This isn’t up for discussion.”

“At least tell me what you’re working on.”

“A bridge.” Rick sighed.

“Well, it sounds shitty.” Negan laughed. “You should stay here with me instead.”

“Negan…”

“It was worth a try,” he said sadly.

“Let me think on it.” Rick voice was soft and gentle as he turned to leave. “But I ain’t making any promises.”

“Never said you were.” Negan glanced at him. “Have a good day, Rick. Be careful out there.”


	8. Not Used to Freedom

It was close to a week before Negan saw Rick again. And when he finally came, it was in the middle of the goddamn night.

“I’m beginning to think you’ve got a thing for sleep deprivation,” Negan said, stretching his arms out and yawning loudly.

Rick looked tired.

Dog tired.

But at least there was a smile on his face.

“S’nice to see you too, Negan.” Rick grabbed a chair, took a seat just outside the cell door.

He was different, Negan realized. The brooding tension that had threatened to drive them apart seemed to have abated.

At least for now.

Maybe absence did make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps Rick had been mulling over Negan’s last words. Hell, maybe the son of a bitch was sorry for everything he’d put him through. Negan kind of hoped it was a combination of all of those things.

“How’s that bridge of yours?” Negan asked, glancing at him.

“It’s damn hard work is how it is,” Rick replied, taking a deep breath.

“All work and no play…” Negan grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re gonna say.”

Silence lingered between them. Negan was starting to get better at it, the whole keeping quiet thing. He didn’t like it, but Rick did. And it was surprising, the lengths he’d go to, just to try and get him and Rick on the same page.

“Gave me the chance to think while I was out there, workin’ in the heat every day.” Rick’s voice was mellow as he looked into the distance. “’Bout our last conversation, ‘bout everythin’ that’s been happenin’ between us.”

“Oh yeah?”

Negan was fighting to keep his tone calm and steady; to act as though he was cool and collected over the entire thing. It wasn’t only his life that was in Rick’s hands; it was his heart, too. His whole sorry existence.

“Yeah.” Rick nodded.

Geez, Negan thought. Don’t bother elaborating.

“That’s why I came here tonight,” Rick lifted his head, looked straight at Negan. “I gotta go away for a few days, stock up on supplies. Guess I underestimated how much we’d need for the bridge.”

“So, you came to tell me you’re leaving again.” Negan fought to hide his disappointment.

“I came to ask you if you wanted to go with me,” Rick said, his gaze unwavering.

“What?” Negan’s mouth went dry. “Does the rest of your little group know about this?”

“They won’t question my decision.”

In Negan’s mind, the picture suddenly started to become much clearer. He laughed. He couldn’t help himself.

Him and Rick, out there in the wilderness, all alone. It sounded too good to be true.

Damn, he wondered if Rick was losing his mind.

“You said you were never going to let me out of here,” Negan challenged him.

“Things change,” Rick said. “Besides, you’ll be locked up again before too long.”

Wow, this was a mindfuck.

“Why are you doing this, Rick?” Negan could feel his heart pounding, his blood starting to boil.

Rick snorted. “You begged for a chance to prove yourself, and now I’m givin’ you one. You sayin’ you don’t want it?”

“If I do this, and you _know_ I wanna do this – then there’d better be something in it for me,” Negan said.

“You aren’t in a position to bargain.”

“But you could tell your people I’d played ball, that I’d behaved like a saint.” Negan’s voice was low. “Give me a chance at being useful for something other than you bouncing on my cock whenever you feel like it.”

In the dim light, he could see Rick’s cheeks turning red.

“Don’t mess up,” Rick snarled. “You step out of line and I’ll…”

“Well, now you’ve gone and got me all excited,” Negan said, running his tongue over his lips.

“Negan, don’t force me to kill you.” Rick’s tone was pleading.

And Negan liked it when he begged.

“I don’t know. Better to go down in a blaze of glory, rather than rot away in here for the rest of my days.” Negan sighed.

And it maybe was. He wanted out; he couldn’t live like this anymore.

A long, huffing noise fell from Rick’s lips. “So, are we doin’ this or not?”

He had nothing to lose, Negan reminded himself.

“Yes,” Negan replied. “Rick fucking Grimes, you just keep on surprising me.”

~

They left right away.

Negan could see the look on everyone’s faces as Rick explained the situation to them at the gates. Told them he was taking Negan on a supply run, that they’d be back in a few days. Rick’s people glared at Negan with more than disdain – it was straight up bloodlust, a look he knew only too well.

They wanted him dead, but they couldn’t challenge Rick.

And fuck, that was goddamn exhilarating.

Negan never thought the hum of a rundown Suburban truck engine would be like music to his ears; never imagined going scavenging would feel like he was about to go on the vacation of a lifetime. 

He turned to look at Rick, watching him has his eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. And Negan realized he was finally starting to live again. 

~

The first problem arose when Rick asked Negan to gather firewood for them that evening as they set up camp.

“You know there are goddamn Walkers in that forest,” Negan complained. “So, give me a weapon, Rick.”

“I can’t do that.” Rick shook his head as he started organizing their supplies. “You can handle this yourself Negan; I know you can.”

He stormed off without saying goodbye.

Negan wandered into the dense undergrowth, fazed by the dying light. He’d lived in semi-darkness in his cell for so long, yet he still couldn’t navigate well in the dark.

He stumbled down a hill, and his leg muscles started to ache. Negan hated to admit it to himself, but damn, he was out of shape. Suddenly, he found himself lamenting the fact that none of Rick’s group back in Alexandria had allowed him out to exercise. They’d deemed it too much of a risk.

Now, he could barely walk. Soon, he began to hobble.

All around him, the noise of bugs and the local wildlife echoed into the night. Every sound, every scent seemed to overstimulate his senses, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Negan had forgotten what it felt like to be free.

He certainly hadn’t expected it to freak him out. Not like this.

Finally, he reached a half-rotten tree and saw some of its branches lying on the ground. It would be more than enough to see him and Rick through the night. He cursed under his breath as he walked towards it – he was not looking forward to carrying it back uphill, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it to Rick.

That was when he heard the Walkers. It was hard to figure out how many of them there were – he was out of practice, and the unearthly sounds that fell from their lips mingled together as one loud noise.

Negan wasn’t scared. Even an out of shape Negan could outrun the finest of Walkers.

He gathered the last of the branches and started the short trek back to where Rick was waiting for him. The Walkers were following him, and shit, there were more of them than he thought. He could hear them congregating behind him, could smell their putrid breath – it made his skin crawl.

But Negan was fine, he was outpacing them, despite all the weight he had to damn well carry.

He made it halfway up the hill before he got his foot stuck in a fucking vine and came crashing violently down to the earth, scattering branches all around him.

“Shit,” he murmured, as the Walkers descended on him.


	9. Doesn’t Realize They’ve Been Injured

It was like a bad trip down memory lane.

Negan had been close to death twice in his life – when Rick slit his throat, and now, as a whole bunch of Walkers were about to devour him for their evening meal. The universe, Negan thought to himself, should have figured out he always got out of situations like this. And yet, it still tested him.

He was not going to fucking die. He wouldn’t give Rick Grimes the satisfaction.

“Screw you, guys.”

Negan’s voice was a low growl as he turned towards the Walkers, kicking the nearest away with his free leg. It bought him some time – seconds though, rather than minutes.

He wrenched his trapped foot out of the vines. Maybe some ligament tore or popped, but even if it did, Negan felt no pain. Adrenaline coursed through his body, making him feel superhuman as he staggered back to where Rick waited for him.

Grimes’ face was a picture of horror as he stared at Negan, his mouth half-open. All the shit he’d endured tonight had been worth it, Negan figured, just to see Rick’s panic-stricken reaction.

“You been enjoying yourself by the fire?” Negan yelled. “Has it been all warm and cozy?”

The noise of the Walkers started to drown his voice out. Rick grabbed his revolver, checking it was loaded. But Negan was not done with his little speech. Not by a long shot.

“Sure would have been nice to have a gun while I was trying to grab that firewood for you.” Negan scowled. “Or, you know, any kind of damn weapon at all.”

Rick didn’t meet Negan’s eyes; instead, he briefly glanced downwards, that useless blank expression still on his face. “Do you ever shut up?” He snarled; his gaze fixed on Negan’s feet.

“Look at me, Rick. Face me like an adult.”

The Walkers were starting to pour into the clearing now; there was no more time to waste.

“Take this,” Rick said, grimacing. Negan could see the tension in Rick’s arms and shoulders as he handed him an axe.

What the hell did he think – that Negan might go and use it on him? It was insanity.

Gunfire echoed all around them as Rick fired the first shot, taking out one Walker right between the eyes. Negan took a deep-seated, primal pleasure in watching Rick Grimes fight. There was nothing graceful or beautiful about it; Rick simply alternated between using his revolver and stabbing away with a knife, and yet, it was mesmerizing. It was one of the most captivating fucking things he’d ever seen.

He supposed he needed to hold up his end of the bargain, too.

Negan swung the axe into position and started to take out some of the Walkers on the periphery of the group. Suddenly, it occurred to him once he’d dispatched the third or fourth of them that he was hopping around on one leg. He hadn’t been able to put his left foot – the one that had been wrapped in the vines – down at all. It was throbbing violently, and it felt as though it was too big for his shoe. The pain only got worse the more he had to exert himself.

Well shit, Negan thought. If this gets any more out of hand, then I’m fucked.

And he would have been without Rick, much as it hurt him to acknowledge that.

~

It seemed so quiet once Rick put the last Walker down. Negan sank to the ground and put his hand around his ankle, wincing at the pain in his foot. Briefly, he surveyed the chaotic scene around them. Some Walkers had fallen into the fire, others simply lay there in a pile of blood and guts. The floor was a wet, sticky mess, and not the good kind of sticky mess.

“Yeah…” Negan sighed. “Remind me to say no the next time you ask me on a date.”

Rick’s chest heaved up and down with heavy breaths, but he managed to turn to Negan with a scowl. “Is that what you think this is?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” Negan laughed humorlessly.

“Cause the way I see it; you were the one begging me for your freedom. I gave you a chance, _and_ I just saved your ass.”

“Did not.” Negan fired back. He did not enjoy it when Rick bragged.

“You were in a tight spot back there. Don’t deny it.”

More bragging. Goddamn it.

“I could have handled it.”

“Bullshit.”

“I had it covered, Rick. I was in control; I always am.”

Rick sighed and started to put their supplies into his backpack.

“What are you doing?” Negan asked.

“Packin’ up. We’re headin’ back.”

Oh shit.

“Why?” Negan could feel anger starting to burn up inside him hotter than the embers of their fire. They’d only just left Alexandria. He wasn’t in a hurry to return.

“That foot of yours is messed up pretty good.”

Negan put his head in his hands.

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel it. You ain’t immune to pain.”

“Didn’t even realize I’d done it at first,” he replied. At least that much was true, even though now, he was in agony.

Still, he didn’t really care about his goddamn foot.

Sometimes, Negan wondered if he and Rick were ever going to come to an understanding. Two steps forward, three steps backwards. It was always the way it went down with them, and Negan was damn well sick of it.

Rick turned to Negan and held his arm out as if to help him up.

“I got it.” Negan gestured, looking away. The pain was searing but he used what was left of his strength to drag himself off the ground. It was hell, but it was worth preserving what little dignity he had.

“Fine. Be like that,” Rick said as they made their way back to the truck.

Negan hopped onto the passenger seat wordlessly. He felt the truck shift with Rick’s weight as he climbed in beside him. Negan kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, waiting for Rick to start up the engine.

But he didn’t, and there was only an excruciating silence.

It wasn’t often Negan thought about his words before he allowed them to leave his mouth. He turned towards Rick, wishing he could fill in the void; that he could somehow ease the awkwardness between them. Bridge the gap. Make things right.

He couldn’t. He didn’t even bother to try.

“I-I didn’t mean…” Rick stammered, finally looking at him directly.

For a moment Negan’s hopes were raised, he thought Rick might be about to say something profound.

“You got something you want to get off your chest, Rick?” Negan prompted.

“I didn’t mean for you to hurt your damn foot out here,” Rick replied through gritted teeth. “That’s all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long silence. I'm hoping to get this finished before the end of the year!


	10. Trying Not to Cry

“So, how does it feel today?” Siddiq asked as he ran his fingers over Negan’s foot.

“Good as new, doc,” Negan replied, a smug grin spreading across his face.

That wasn’t exactly true. His foot was never going to be what it was before he got it stuck in a bunch of vines and had to wrench it out of them as he tried to run for his life. But he’d got away lightly, he supposed. A few overstretched tendons, a couple of broken bones from bending it the wrong way. Could’ve been a hell of a lot worse.

And it was Rick’s fault he’d got hurt. Negan liked to remind him of that.

He hopped down from the couch and busied himself by putting his boot back on and lacing it up. Siddiq opened the infirmary door to reveal the two sorry dudes they’d got on guard duty. Every day, Negan would tell them their presence made him feel like a celebrity, but inwardly, it pissed him the fuck off. It wasn’t like he was going to run away – Rick knew as much, and the rest of his little group were starting to catch on, too. There were still those who wanted him dead, of course. Hell, maybe being guarded was better for his own protection, but he’d grown tired of the entire charade.

A rush of fresh air filled Negan’s lungs as he stepped outside. The sky was a cloudless, brilliant blue above, and Negan could hear a bird singing in a tree a little way off. This moment of his life, at least, was fucking blissful.

“Are you finding it any easier to walk?” Siddiq asked.

“Gettin’ stronger every day,” Negan said, and he couldn’t help but smile.

For six weeks now, he and the doctor had spent an hour or so in each other’s company every morning. Negan had no idea whether the ‘rehab sessions’ were a medical necessity or not. It was far more likely, he theorized, that these daily excursions out of his cell were at Rick’s request.

Fuck, if he’d known that was all it would take to get him out of there, he would’ve broken his foot sooner.

“And where is our fine sheriff today?” Negan asked.

“Well…” Siddiq cleared his throat and pursed his lips together.

“What is it?” Negan raised his voice slightly.

“Nothing, nothing.” Siddiq laughed under his breath. “You ask me this same question every single morning.”

“Well, goddamn.” Negan grinned. “I guess I do. ‘Cept on the mornings he gets to me first.”

“People are talking,” Siddiq said in a hushed tone. “I mean – it’s all they talk about.”

“Hell, let them.” Negan shrugged. “At least I keep you people amused.”

They stopped walking. Siddiq turned to look at him. The guys who were guarding looked like they’d rather be anywhere but with them, bearing witness to this conversation.

“What’s the deal with you two?”

Negan laughed lowly and heartily. “Hell if I know, doc.”

“Really?” Siddiq narrowed his eyes.

“Really.” Negan winked. “I got no fucking idea.”

“Because I thought you two were…” He left his voice trail off. “Obviously, I got it wrong.”

“Yeah.” Negan stared blankly. “It’s complicated. We got a lot of history, Rick and I.”

He wanted to tell Siddiq that Rick had been hopping on his dick for a while now; wanted to see the guards recoil in horror as he made the revelation. But he and Rick had made a deal – and Negan was supposed to keep his mouth shut. He was not a man who went back on his word.

Besides, Rick still played hot and cold with him. He was mostly lukewarm. Negan always found himself wishing Rick would come around and see him more, but he rarely did. He didn’t want to jeopardize what little progress they’d made.

“Is it really so complicated?” Siddiq asked, his brow furrowing.

Negan looked at him; studied him.

“I mean, given what’s out there,” Siddiq said, gesturing towards the gates. “If you find a connection with somebody – _anybody_ – you should do everything you can to hold onto it. Don’t you think?”

“Does the same rule apply to a guy like me? Do _I_ deserve to be happy?”

Their eyes locked. To his credit, Siddiq did not look away. “Rick does,” he said quietly. “Rick deserves to be happy.”

Negan nodded in understanding. He’d overheard various retellings of the tale from people passing by his cell. He knew Siddiq had known Carl, and that he’d been there at the end. The thought of the kid’s passing still made Negan’s heart ache – it was one of the few things that did.

There was nothing left to say. They stopped at the building that contained Negan’s cell, and he sighed to himself, wondering how he was going to fill the many hours left in the day.

“Oh, Rick’s working on the bridge,” Siddiq said as he turned to leave. “Got a whole group of people out there with him today.”

Negan nodded. Predictable, he thought to himself. Boring.

Little did he know.

~

Negan’s first inkling that something was wrong came about when no one had returned to him by nightfall. He’d not had lunch, and no one had brought him fresh water. The unease gnawing away at his stomach wasn’t merely out of hunger, though.

Nothing like this had ever happened before. He was a prisoner, sure, but Rick’s group had always treated him humanely. They’d kept him fed and groomed; they’d given him medical care. There could have been many reasons as to why he was now being neglected – and none of them were good.

Negan paced from one end to the other of his cell, over and over. His foot throbbed by the time he realized how long he’d been doing it. He arched his neck towards the window, trying to make out if he could see anybody out there, but it was dark, and oddly, ominously quiet.

He’d almost given up when finally, he heard footsteps on the stairs.

Siddiq stood outside the cell door, his face illuminated by the pale moonlight. His eyes were wide, and his hands shook as they gripped Negan’s dinner tray.

“They got you as my chef now, too?” Negan asked, but he wished he could have taken the words back no sooner had they left his mouth.

Something truly awful had happened. Something fucking momentous. A wave of nausea washed over Negan as he tried to figure out what it was.

Siddiq slipped the dinner tray under the cell door. Negan couldn’t help but notice how much his hands were shaking.

“I came to tell you…” Siddiq’s voice cracked.

“Came to tell me what?” Negan’s pulse quickened. “What the hell’s happened out there, doc?”

Siddiq’s eyes watered, and he couldn’t meet Negan’s gaze.

Suddenly, it hit Negan then. He didn’t want to believe it – for once, he hoped he’d read somebody and got it wrong.

“Where’s Rick?” He asked between heavy breaths. “I want to see Rick.”

Jesus Christ, he thought. Please let me be wrong. Please let him be okay.

Siddiq took a deep breath and rested his hands by his sides. “There was an explosion,” he said.

“No.” Negan’s eyes filled with tears; his body longed to convulse with sobs. “I don’t wanna hear this.”

“We lost him…”

“You lost him?” Negan tried with all his might to retain control. “Well hell, you better go find him then.”

He didn’t understand; couldn’t understand.

“There’s no way he could’ve survived something like that.” Siddiq’s voice broke again. “I’m sorry, Negan. I’m sorry. Rick’s gone.”


	11. I Should've Been Better

“I don’t think you’re hearing me,” Negan said, shaking the door of his cell violently. “You need to let me outta here!”

He was becoming increasingly exasperated as his pleas fell on deaf ears. Gabriel kept his expression blank, his gaze steady.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“But I can search for him,” Negan pleaded. “I can fight. You need every single son of a bitch here to be out there, looking for Rick.”

Gabriel paused and took a deep breath. “We _are_ looking for him.”

“Well, the clock’s ticking, Gabe.” Negan glared at him. “How long do you think he’s going to last if he’s lying out there in a ditch somewhere, injured?”

Negan’s mouth went dry. It had been hours now – nearly a whole goddamned day since the explosion. Had everybody lost their damn minds? Time was of the essence.

“Perhaps you’d like to join me in prayer,” Gabriel said.

Prayer? _Prayer?_ What the fuck.

Negan’s entire body began to tremble as the harsh reality dawned on him – no one was expecting to find Rick alive. It was already too late. They were trying to recover his body.

“What I want is for him to come back.” Negan lowered his voice. “For him to walk through that door like nothing’s happened, bragging about whatever little project he’s got going on to rebuild civilization. But he won’t, will he?”

Gabriel was silent.

“Will he?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he whispered. “Not this time.”

Negan put his head in his hands. This situation was worse than a nightmare. Gabriel stared at him, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Perhaps you’d like some time alone to reflect.”

Yeah, like he was ever going to have anything but time alone to reflect from now on. Negan didn’t even bother to acknowledge Gabriel before he walked out the door.

~

They’d never been friends, him and Rick. Enemies, sure. They’d been legendary fucking enemies; they’d pushed each other to their limits. And finally, once the tables had turned and Rick had taken away every last thing Negan held dear, they’d become lovers.

“Hell, it was only ever physical as far as Rick was concerned.” Negan laughed as he stared into the darkness, trying to avoid Siddiq’s sad and tired eyes. “But for me? I guess I had real feelings for him. Too bad I’ll never get to tell him.”

“He knew,” Siddiq said.

“Huh, I doubt that,” Negan replied dryly. “Nice of you to try and make me feel better though doc.”

“I think there were lots of things he knew and never talked about.” Siddiq smiled, and Negan wondered if he was still referring to their relationship or something else entirely. “He kept his cards close to his chest; put the needs of his people first. He was a proud guy.”

“Yeah. Too damn proud.”

They both laughed.

“But I should’ve been better.” Negan’s voice cracked, and finally, tears started to roll down his cheeks. “If I’d been a better person, then I wouldn’t be locked in here, wondering how the hell I’m going to live without him. They won’t let me see his goddamn grave. I can’t even pay my respects.”

“It’s not like…” Siddiq took a deep breath. “We don’t have his body.”

And that was the moment Negan broke beyond all repair.

Siddiq slowly opened the cell door. Negan could tell in the dim light that Siddiq’s hands were shaking. But this small shred of trust; this leap of faith was humbling. Negan let Siddiq wrap his arms around him and damn well appreciated it as he held him while he sobbed.

It was probably more than he deserved.

~

The years passed. Some things changed; most things didn’t. But Negan still spoke to Rick every day, even though he wasn’t there anymore.

“Hell, Rick. I don’t know what you’d think of me if you could see me right now.”

Negan was cleaning his soil-covered hands, scraping the dirt out from under his fingernails.

“I mean, these days I’d rather farm than fight, sometimes I don’t even have the strength for profanity.”

It was a beautiful day to spend in the Alexandria garden. The tomatoes were ripening, and Negan expected nothing less than a bountiful crop this season. He turned off the faucet and shook his hands dry. A few yards ahead was his favorite bench. It was the perfect place to reflect. He eased himself onto it and watched as the rest of the community went about their daily business.

They’d let him out of his cell some time ago, now. Negan had hoped to earn his freedom after saving Judith’s life during the storm, but it had taken a while longer than that. He’d had to kill Alpha before people grasped the fact he was truly on-side, and there were still a lot of non-believers.

Just because Negan wasn’t locked up anymore, it didn’t mean he felt free. He was a prisoner of his own mind, haunted by regret, and that was a life sentence.

“Dammit, Rick,” Negan said under his breath. “I wanted to grow old with you.”

“You mean you wanted to grow _older_ with him.” Judith stood a few feet away, her face obscured by her hat.

A wide smile broke out on Negan’s face and he started to laugh. “You got me, kid. You got me.”

~

Eventually, Negan decided there was nothing left for him in Alexandria. He intended on living the rest of his days out in peace, maybe even in solitude. There was still a whole world out there to explore, and he’d seen so little of it, appreciated so little of it.

Michonne had left him with a parting gift, one he had gazed upon with a fascinated kind of horror – Lucille. The baseball bat was currently wrapped in a sack, slung over his shoulder.

Negan walked until he found the clearing in the forest – the very same one where he’d first met Rick all those years ago and murdered two of his friends. It seemed right to end this here, in the place where it all began.

He poured with sweat as he dug away at the hard, dry ground. Sure, he wasn’t as young as he used to be, but the heat of the day was unforgiving, the sun shining down on him relentlessly. When the hole was big enough, he opened the sack and ran his fingers over the charred wooden baseball bat. She’d survived being on fire, but she was well worn now, her barbed wire turning to rust. Negan looked at her and examined her. He’d expected to feel something profound; to come to some life-altering realization when he laid his eyes on her once more. But he felt stupid. How lame he’d been to attach so many feelings to an inanimate object.

He placed her in the makeshift grave and sighed heavily. Father Gabriel had recited so many prayers and sermons to him over the years, yet none would come to mind right now.

“So,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I named a baseball bat after you, Lucille.”

Negan started to fill the hole in with dirt.

Then, he heard a noise coming from the sky. The dirt below him started to blow around, the dust getting into his nose and eyes. He had no idea what the hell was happening, and he stood, frozen on the spot with terror.

The helicopter landed behind him. The noise it made seemed deafening.

Negan held his hands up and slowly started to turn around. Because whoever had the power to be flying a fucking helicopter in this messed up world was surely an almighty force to be reckoned with. And he was just one man. He didn’t even have a gun on him.

The helicopter door slid open. Negan’s heart raced. When a man stepped out of it, Negan recognized him immediately – he’d know that curly, salt and pepper hair anywhere.

And so there they were. Rick and him, face-to-face again after all those years. In that damn clearing near the forest, of all the places in the world.

“Rick?” He whispered, his voice cracking.

“Negan,” he replied.

“How did you…?” Negan started to ask. “You’re alive?”

“I’m alive,” he said, blue eyes blazing. “And I came back. I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the weirdest, crackiest thing I've ever written, but since 2020 has been such a difficult year, I didn't want to end this on a sad note. Thank you to everyone who's supported this fic along the way, I appreciate your comments and kudos so much <3.
> 
> I will be writing more content for The Walking Dead because it's been such a big part of my life for so many years now, and I want to keep it alive on principle. But my next fic is for a rarepair and not Negan/Rick. Hopefully I'll start posting it when I'm a few chapters in.


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